


the most vital to my happiness

by Bellakitse



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: 12 Days of Malex 2019, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Malex Secret Santa 2019, Michael Guerin Loves Alex Manes, Non-Graphic Violence, soft boys in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:08:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21640693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellakitse/pseuds/Bellakitse
Summary: An encounter with his older brother leaves Alex hurt. Michael is angry, worries and takes care of Alex.*“I know why you’re doing this,” Michael continues, his fingers pressing between Alex’s shoulder blades. “You feel responsible for what your family has done to mine.”
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 48
Kudos: 350
Collections: 12 Days Of Malex 2019





	the most vital to my happiness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EmmaArthur (EchoBleu)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EchoBleu/gifts).



Alex knows before he even opens his eyes that he’s in the hospital, there are the telling signs of medical equipment beeping and the smell of disinfectant in the air. He feels the heaviness of medication coursing through him and wonders what he was given as the desire to sleep tries to pull him back in. He’d love to listen to that siren song, but he can feel people in the room with him. He reaches out and grabs a hand as it touches his forearm, his hold is as tight as he can make it, given how sluggish he feels.

“It’s okay, Alex. You’re safe.”

He lets out a calming breath as he recognizes Liz’s soothing voice and finally opens his eyes, assessing the room. Liz is sitting at his left side, while Kyle, whose wrist he’s holding, is on his right.

Michael, who is sporting the stoniest expression on his face, is a few feet away by the door with his arms crossed.

“How-“ he tries to speak, coughing from the dryness of his throat.

Liz, grabbing a plastic cup of water, brings a straw to his lips. “What do you remember?” she asks after he’s done drinking.

Alex frowns at the question, sneaking another look at Michael. He can see the tension in his arms and shoulders and wishes he would come closer so Alex could smooth out the strain. They do that now, they touch more, each time with the anticipation that they are on the verge of being something again.

It’s taken months.

It’s taken other relationships and breakups. Long conversations that sometimes ended in shouts, sometimes in tears, but lately end in innocent touches with the promise of more.

There is a steady source of hope that constantly courses through him these days when Michael smiles at him like he’s still the man he loves.

Michael isn’t smiling right now.

_No_ , everything about Michael right now screams quiet fury, and it causes a ball of anxiety in Alex to build.

He turns his gaze back to Liz and Kyle, he doesn’t like the worried looks on their faces, but it’s easier to deal with than Michael obviously being angry. Liz still looks at him expectantly, waiting, and he remembers she asked him a question.

What does he remember?

He tries to focus, and after a moment, it starts to come back to him. Decrypted communications between his oldest brother Harlan and his father, who’s been in hiding since Flint snuck him out of the hospital a few months back. He’d followed his family’s trail and ended with Harlan pushing his knife into Alex’s side as they fought.

His brother’s version of brotherly love.

“I ran into Harlan,” he finally answers, and he can feel the tension in the room go up at the mention of his brother, by now everyone knows what the Manes men are capable of doing.

Liz’s brow furrows at the center with worry and more than a little anger; she points toward his wound, her mouth pinched. “He did that?”

“My dear big brother takes after dad the most,” he answers with a bitter grin that drops when he hears Michael curse from where he stands, his eyes burning angrier if possible.

Kyle looks over his shoulder at the cowboy before looking back at him, his own expression grim. “And after?”

“I incapacitated him,” Alex recalls.

Like his father, his brothers tended to underestimate him. He remembers the knife slicing into him like butter, his brother smirking at him, thinking he had the upper hand when Alex let out a pained gasp. He’d let his guard down and had taken to gloating. Harlan was brutal like their father, but his arrogance was his downfall.

“He stabbed me once, and then came at me again,” Alex answers matter of fact, ignoring the way Liz mutters angrily under her breath in Spanish.

“His knife came towards my shoulder, and I disarmed him. I broke his arm and then hit him with the bud of my gun, knocking him out. I got out of there and drove back to Roswell, but I was bleeding a lot, and my vision got blurry,” he trails off, not remembering anything else.

“You called me as you crossed into Roswell,” Kyle answers his silent question. “You managed to tell me where you were before you passed out, we came to get you.”

Alex nods, understanding how he ended up in the hospital. Max was back among the land of the living, but his powers weren’t what they used to be these days, he couldn’t heal him. Bringing him to Roswell General was the only solution.

“Thanks,” he says quietly, giving his friend half a smile, which Kyle returns tiredly. Alex takes in the dark circles around his eyes and how weary the others in the room look. “How long was I out?”

“21 hours, 38 minutes,” Michael answers before Kyle, which makes Kyle and Liz give each other pointed looks while Alex stares at Michael, his heart pounding in his ears as Michael gives him an anguished look. “You lost a lot of blood and weren’t responsive when we found you.”

“I’m sorry-

Michael throws him a scowl that shuts him up, an apology is obviously the last thing Michael wants, but he can’t read Michael’s mood right now other than he’s upset, and he doesn’t know how to change it. He looks back at Kyle, who is watching him quietly.

“When can I leave?” he asks, and Kyle starts shaking his head, giving him an aggravated look of his own.

“I want to keep you for observation for a few days to make sure you’re okay,” Kyle starts, frowning when Alex gives him a shake of his own.

“Alex,” Liz starts, trying to reason with him.

“If you want to keep me here just for observation, that means I’m okay,” Alex interrupts her argument before she even begins. “I’m going home.”

“ _Dude_ ,” Kyle complains. “Come on, don’t be difficult.”

“I’m not,” he says, and Michael scoffs from the door, crossing and uncrossing his arms before crossing them once more.

Kyle tries once more. “Alex-“

“Do I need to be here?” Alex questions. “Will I keel over if I leave?”

Kyle presses his lips into a thin line, before finally answering. “Well _no_ , We gave you a blood transfusion and antibiotics-“

“So I’m okay,” Alex cuts him off.

Kyle rolls his eyes at him, forgetting that he’s in doctor mode right now. _“Yes.”_

Alex smiles, victoriously. “So, do you want to check me out, or do I need to do it myself?”

Kyle shakes his head, mumbling about pain in the ass patients. “I’ll get the paperwork ready. You can leave in a few hours if you don’t spike a fever or anything.”

Alex nods and starts to say thank you, when Michael lets out a noise, they all turn to look at him, but he’s already turning on his heel and leaving the room, leaving it in an awkward silence. Kyle follows a few minutes afterward to get the discharge papers ready, leaving Alex alone with Liz.

“He’s angry at me,” Alex comments resigned, feeling a dull ache in his chest. It’s been a while since Michael has been angry at him, and he remembers just how much he hates it. He hates the feeling like there is a wall between them, one he can’t get through.

Liz takes his hand in hers, warm to the touch; she runs her fingers over his knuckles, bruised from his fight.

“He’s not angry,” she disagrees with him, her voice gentle. “He’s scared. He went with Kyle to get you, and your clothes were soaked in your blood, and he couldn’t wake you up. He’s been scared since, Alex. We all were.”

Alex looks down at their hands, his eyes stinging, and he feels miserable. “I’m sorry.”

Liz looks at him, kind and loving in that way of hers. “Don’t be sorry, just be more careful,” she says, gently scolding him. “We can’t lose you; we all love you too much.”

Alex gives her a watery smile, which she returns. She touches his chin, making him meet her eyes.

“Especially Michael.”

***

Michael doesn’t come back to the hospital, and that evening when Kyle discharges him, it’s Liz that drives him home. She doesn’t comment on his sad, miserable mood, and he silently thanks her for it.

He just wants to go home and curl up with his dog. Liz tells him that Maria drove out to watch Buffy while he was in the hospital.

“She called an hour ago before heading for the bar, said Buffy was walked and fed and that if you pull another stunt like this, she’s filing for custody of her.”

Alex chuckles, holding his left side as it aches. Maria loves Buffy, given that she helped him rescue her when they met her, he wouldn’t put it past her to make good on her threat.

“She also said that she’s going to kick your ass and then smother you with cuddles next time she sees you for scaring her, just as soon as you’re better,” Liz continues, throwing him a mild glare. “I will be joining in on both.”

He rolls his eyes but gives her a nod, accepting his future punishment easily.

They pull up to his cabin to find the lights on, and a familiar old truck already parked in front. Alex turns to look at Liz, his heart speeding up at the sight of the vehicle. Liz smiles at him, amused, and he can only imagine the look on his face.

“You two really are a pair,” she sighs softly, her smile widening as she shakes her head at him. “I was going to come inside and keep you company, but it seems you don’t need me,” she nods towards Michael’s truck. “Do you need help to get inside?”

Alex shakes his head, his hand already reaching for the door handle when Liz reaches out and touches his arm.

“Let him take care of you, Alex. You need it,” she says, nodding towards the cabin. “But so does he.”

Alex swallows hard, her words resonating with him; finally, he nods and says a soft thank you as he exits her car, she waits until he’s at his door, slower than he would like before she puts the car in reverse.

The cabin is warm from the fire that is going strong, and the place smells like food. Michael is sitting on his couch with Buffy, who is resting her head on his lap, blissfully happy as Michael scratches behind her ears.

They both look over at him as he walks in, and Buffy barks, her tail wagging so hard, it thumps against the couch cushion. Michael looks at him but says nothing as they stare at each other.

He doesn't look like a thundercloud like earlier, but Alex can tell he's not entirely over his mood either. Buffy barks again, gaining his attention, and Alex can’t help but smile at her excitement to see him. The old girl is truly the sweetest dog. He walks over to them and sits at the other end of the couch, hiding the way his side aches with every movement, he sneaks a look at Michael, his frown has deepened as he watches him.

Obviously, Alex isn't as good at hiding the pain he's in as he would like. He looks down at Buffy, who has left Michael's side and has now waddled over to him, resting her head on his lap as she looks up at him with those soulful brown eyes of hers.

"Hey, baby girl," he mutters softly, as he pets the top of her head. "Did you miss me?"

“Of course she did,” Michael answers quietly, speaking for the first time since the hospital. He’s looking at Alex with those whiskey-colored eyes of his, that speak louder than any words. Alex sees the frustration and worry in them. Now closer, Alex can see that they’re puffy from lack of sleep, and Alex feels the guilt slam into him. “She always misses you when you’re gone, she worries.”

Alex licks his lips as he struggles to answer, not knowing if he should play along. Subtext has always led to miscommunication between them, and he’s been trying hard to break that cycle.

“I’m sorry I made you worry, Michael,” he says honestly.

Michael takes a sharp breath and for a moment, looks like he’s going to argue or get angry that Alex isn’t playing ball and focusing their conversation on Buffy, but after a moment, he sighs and with it deflates, his shoulders dropping.

“I’m so pissed at you,” Michael whispers, his face pained when he says it, even as he shifts closer to Alex. Moving until there is only enough space between them for Buffy. She looks up at him for a moment before resting back on Alex, not bothered by being nestled between them as Michael leans over and touches the side of Alex’s face, his thumb running over his eyebrow.

“There was a lot of blood,” Michael tells him, his voice a rough whisper. “And you were barely awake. I couldn’t heal you; my powers aren’t strong enough for that yet. I felt useless, and then I got so angry.”

Alex feels a tightness in his chest at Michael’s words. He can tell that Michael means them, and yet his touch is so gentle as he continues to stroke Alex like he’s afraid he’ll disappear if he stops.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats even as it feels inadequate, lacking.

Michael sighs again, tired, but nods at him like he believes him. “Are you in pain?”

Alex shrugs, not wanting to lie, but not wanting to cop to the dull ache at his side either, Michael gives him a knowing look.

“Kyle gave me your meds,” Michael starts as he stands up. “He knew better than to give them to you, because chances are, you’ll just ignore them and suffer in silence,” he continues looking back at him like he’s daring Alex to argue. He can’t, he’s not a fan of pain medication, and they both know that. “Wait here.”

Alex does as he’s told, and gets comfortable on the couch, enjoying the warmth the fire is providing. Michael comes back with a bowl of food, a glass of water and pills in the crook of his elbow.

He places the bowl on the small coffee table in front of them. Buffy makes a noise eyeing it, and Michael answers with a sound of his own.

“I left you some in your bowl, sweetheart, that’s for your dad,” he says to her, and Buffy seems to listen because she hops off the couch and heads for the kitchen.

Alex shakes his head at both of them.

It’s become a common occurrence the more Michael spends time with them at the cabin, that Buffy seems to understand everything Michael says to her. “You spoil her too much. Maria fed her when she was here.”

Michael nods. “I know, she was leaving as I got here,” he says, handing Alex a pill and the water. “But Buffy likes my stew.”

“Spoiling her,” Alex repeats after swallowing the pill, having given up on Michael not feeding her people food, he knows that Michael probably made some stew special without seasonings, just for her.

“I love her,” Michael says easily, as he hands Alex the bowl of beef stew. “It’s my job to spoil her.”

Michael goes to his knees by Alex’s feet and starts to undo his boots and socks before he looks at Alex. “Do you want me to take this off too?” he asks, tapping on the prosthetic.

Alex nods after a moment, watching Michael as he makes a quick and practiced job of removing his prosthetic and the sock that goes with it. He takes the same shaky breath he always does when Michael places a kiss at the end of his leg. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to how gentle Michael is with him.

“You spoil _me_ ,” he whispers when Michael looks up at him from where he’s still kneeling.

“It’s my job,” Michael repeats meaningfully, and Alex swallows hard, understanding what isn’t being said out loud but is still there.

They sit in silence as they eat once Michael comes back into the living room with his own bowl. Michael smiles that soft smile of his, which feels like it’s just for Alex when he lets out an appreciative sound as he eats.

Proud at the fact that Alex likes it, and Alex is filled with so much warmth and love for him, just when he thinks he’s hit the limit of his love for Michael, he finds that there is more.

Once they’re done, and Michael does away with the dirty dishes, Alex lets him move them around the way he wants, until Michael is lying back on the couch and has pulled Alex on top of him, his arms secure around Alex while Alex rests his head on his chest.

Buffy, who has wandered back from her feast, is resting on the floor next to them, and Alex pets her as his arm hangs over the side.

“Is your wound okay like this?” Michael questions after a while.

Alex hums out a yes, not only has the pain pills started to work their magic, making him wonderfully pain-free, but Michael has positioned them in such a way that there is no pressure on his wound. They keep like that for a while longer, and Alex basks in the feeling of being in Michael’s arms.

“I need you to stop taking these risks,” Michael says quietly, muffled as he speaks into Alex’s hair.

Alex stills, tensing up.

“I know why you’re doing this,” Michael continues, his fingers pressing between Alex’s shoulder blades. “You feel responsible for what your family has done to mine.”

“Michael-“

“ _And_ ,” Michael continues, cutting him off. “I know I didn’t help that in the months after Caulfield. I was messed up by what happened there, and I took it out on you and made you feel like you were responsible.”

Alex opens his mouth, but nothing comes out.

“I was wrong to do that,” Michael tells him.

Alex lifts his head to look at Michael, a part of him wants to pull away, out of his arms. The guilt he carries choking him as usual. “You aren’t _them_ , you’ve _never_ been them.”

“I have to make it right,” Alex whispers, his eyes stinging while Michael shakes his head. “My family has taken so many of yours.”

“Yes,” Michael agrees, and it feels like a blow, which Alex takes on the chin. “They have.”

Alex makes a pained sound he can’t stop from passing his lips and starts to sit up. Michael lets him but doesn’t let him get far, his hands' cup Alex’s face to make sure Alex looks at him.

“Your family,” he starts. “Your father and brothers have taken so many of my loved ones, my family,” Michael tells him, and Alex has to bite down on his lip to keep from crying.

“And when your brother stabbed you,” Michael continues, a wild, desperate look on his face. “He tried to take the most important one.”

The way Michael looks at him, the love that shines through his eyes and his words, leaves Alex breathless. He holds on to Michael’s wrists, clinging to him. He isn’t the only one crying now.

“You said you were my family, Alex,” Michael reminds him, a tear running down his face. “And you are. The most important part, the most vital to my happiness.”

“Michael,” he gasps, trying to speak through his tears.

“You know I love you, right?” Michael continues, smiling at him through it. “We have been working towards _us_ again, but you have to know how much I love you.”

Alex nods, he does, he’s always known. “I love you too.”

Michael smiles, and it’s the most beautiful thing Alex has ever seen. He lets go of Alex’s face and spreads his arms for him. Alex all but climbs on him to be wrapped up in his arms again, his side sending some discomfort through him at how fast he moves, but he ignores it as Michael holds him close.

“Promise me that you’ll be more careful,” Michael whispers into his shoulder as he hugs him, and Alex is grateful that Michael isn’t asking him to stop completely. Maybe he doesn’t blame him for being a Manes, but Alex will always carry the responsibility of his name, and he has to fix as much as he can of his family’s legacy. _“Please.”_

Alex nods, and he feels Michael relax in his arms. He’s sure this isn’t the end of this conversation, he’s confident they’ll have it again. His father and his brothers aren’t going to stop their cruelty, and Alex isn’t going to stop trying to put an end to them. He isn’t going to stop until he’s sure that Michael and his family won’t be hurt by them ever again. But for now, they can just hold each other, love each other, the way they’ve always been meant to.

It’s all he’s ever wanted, and it’s enough.


End file.
